


the blues will heal if only you let them

by Phoenix_Allura (Artemis_Autumn_Marie)



Series: Nix's Whumptober 2019 [10]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, Broken Bones, Fear, Gen, Hurt Minho, Hurt Thomas, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pain, Running, Whumptober 2019, it's more background than anything but it was intended to be there, my brain decided other things, thominho - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Autumn_Marie/pseuds/Phoenix_Allura
Summary: Whumptober Day 10 (yay!): UnconsciousThomas has to get them back, they have to get out.But he doesn't know how he's going to make it.(He doesn't know if he can make it.)
Relationships: Alby & Minho (Maze Runner), Alby & Thomas (Maze Runner), Chuck & Thomas (Maze Runner), Gally & Thomas (Maze Runner), Minho & Newt & Thomas (Maze Runner), Minho/Thomas (Maze Runner), Newt & Thomas (Maze Runner), Teresa Agnes & Thomas (Maze Runner)
Series: Nix's Whumptober 2019 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1507226
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	the blues will heal if only you let them

Thomas pushes himself faster, faster, faster. Minho is here, alone, defenseless.

He has to get back to him.

Even as Thomas slows to a stop beside Minho’s prone figure, his heart keeps racing and his mind keeps running.

“Minho, please, please wake up, do something, anything.” Thomas knows he’s begging breathlessly, but Minho needs to wake up, he needs to move, something, something.

Thomas doesn’t know what he’ll do if Minho doesn’t wake up.

“Think, Thomas, think, you’ve got to get out of here, so what do you do?” Thomas talks himself through the turns back to the Glade, how he’s gonna get Minho back before the Doors close. Thomas is careful in lifting Minho up, using the hooks on their bags and tugging Minho’s arm over his shoulders.

Thomas is fast. He can get them back.

He has to get them back.

They won’t survive another night in the Maze.

Thomas moved as quickly as he could while dragging Minho. They have to make it.

Minho needs to wake up. Maybe he knows a shortcut Thomas doesn’t, maybe they can get there faster, get out of here, get Minho help, get out and never come back.

(Thomas knows that’s a lie. As long as they’re trapped, he’ll always, always come back.)

(He won’t condemn an entire community to a fate that he has a feeling he knows is escapable.)

He drags Minho for another three turns before he has to stop.

He talks himself through the turns again.

Stops.

Stares at the sky.

They’re not going to make it.

They’re not going to make it.

Thomas wishes he had a way to send a message, to tell Newt and Chuck and Alby that he and Minho died together, not alone, not afraid.

He wishes for a lot of things.

(But really, he wishes for a way out. For time to stop for everyone but him and Minho and so he can get them out.

Get them  _ home. _ )

He wants to run, run back to the Cliff and throw himself.

But he won’t.

He’s got Minho to think about.

And so he keeps going.

Thomas starts jogging; if he goes faster, even just a little, they can make it.

They have to make it.

He’ll sprint, Minho in his arms, if he has to.

He’ll swing across the walls again. (But only if he really has to; that sounds like it’d be fun but he had so many bruises and cuts the next day.)

Thomas jogs the next four, five, six turns, the sun seeming to change faster than he can blink.

Five turns left.

He walks. He has to.

Minho is heavy, and Thomas can run but he can’t lift, and this is hard.

He has to check his feet, he’s so sure he’s pulling up the path with each step, that it’s wrapping around his feet, his ankles, his calves, weighing him down. Thomas walks, walks, walks, dragging Minho more than he’s supporting him.

But he’s getting there.

They’re going to make it.

(They still have five turns.)

Thomas blinks at the sun, slow, then squints. If only it would move more slowly, just for today.

That would be nice.

He jogs, feet heavy, right arm numb with Minho’s weight, left sagging under the machete Minho favors.

He jogs, takes the turn slow.

Four left.

He walks, quickly, as quickly as he can without jogging.

He’s running before he hits the turn, moving faster and faster with each step, faster and faster and faster-

It all stops.

Everything.

His foot catches on nothing, he trips on air, and he falls, falls, falls and suddenly, cool stone hard against his face, Minho heavy across his back, left arm bent awkwardly, painfully (it’s cracking, breaking, but so is he, so he ignores it. Let it shatter, shatter with the rest of him) under him, suddenly he doesn’t know.

Suddenly he doesn’t know. Doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to get up. Get up from under Minho. Minho, who he has to carry for three, three and a half more turns, in the fading sunlight with his numb arm, his shattered arm, his aching feet, aching ankles, aching calves.

Doesn’t know if he has the willpower to stand back up.

Does know what will happen if (when) (no, if) he doesn’t push himself up, haul Minho up, and move, move, move.

Doesn’t know if he cares.

He moves anyway.

He has to, the stone is no doubt bruising his face and his arm is screaming and what if Minho hit his head again-

He hadn’t. Minho was laying as though asleep, head and shoulders cushioned by their bags.

It’s late.

Too late.

Three and a half.

Three and a half more turns, that’s all he has to make.

And then they’ll be safe.

So he gets up.

He rearranges Minho, leaves the machete.

Lifts his left foot, encased in stone up to the knee.

Right foot, almost impossible to move.

And he walks.

And walks. 

And walks.

Two turns, now. He can hear the Glade, boys (Newt and Chuck and Alby and Frypan (no, not Frypan, he has dinner to cook) and maybe Gally because he pretends not to care but everyone knows he really does, even for the ones he hates.) 

(It’s because he doesn’t want to see anyone else die.)

(Doesn’t want to bury another friend.)

They’ll be watching the Doors without letting on that they’re watching the Doors even though it’s useless to pretend because everyone is doing the same thing.

They’re going to make it.

Thomas drags his feet, lifts his weight-laden head, and walks.

One turn, one turn and he’ll see them.

He jogs.

And there they are, Newt and Chuck and Alby and Teresa and Clint and yes, even Gally.

They’re there.

And Newt’s running, in his stuttering sprint, and Chuck and Alby and Teresa aren’t far behind but it’s Gally who reaches them first, Gally who looks at Thomas’s face and an understanding passes between them before Gally is screaming over his shoulder for Clint to get the Medjack station ready and taking most of Minho’s weight before Newt reaches them and tries to take Thomas’s arm.

His left arm.

And Thomas bites his tongue but then he screams and his eyes roll back into his head but this time Newt and Alby and Teresa and Chuck and yes, even Gally, will catch him and Minho when he falls so it’s okay.

It’s going to be okay.

He wakes up, and he wakes up, and he wakes up.

And Minho’s there, every time, in bed next to him, and Newt’s there, most of the time, and so are Chuck and Teresa and sometimes it’s Alby and it’s usually Clint, not Jeff, and then one day it’s Gally and Newt and Minho, arguing quietly.

And it’s okay.

Everything’s okay.

He’s going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!  
> Personally, halfway through writing this I realized much of this could be applied to mental health and it kind of turned into a mental health allegory. It's fine if you don't see it that way, but I did, and I thought it'd cool to share.  
> Tell me what you thought! Comments and kudos are always appreciated.  
> As always,  
> Nix


End file.
